Beat Myself Up
by an-alternate-world
Summary: There was still so much guilt and shame between them because of the unspoken, tangled secrets of Eddie's cage-fighting and Buck feeling like he just hadn't apologised enough and been heard. Maybe one more round will help them finally set all the feelings aside...


**Title: **Beat Myself Up  
**Author: **an-alternate-world  
**Rating:** PG  
**Characters/Pairing: **Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz  
**Word Count:** 5,508  
**Summary:** There was still so much guilt and shame between them because of the unspoken, tangled secrets of Eddie's cage-fighting and Buck feeling like he just hadn't apologised enough and been heard. Maybe one more round will help them finally set all the feelings aside...  
**Warnings/Spoilers:** Because I just have SO MANY FEELINGS about _that scene_ from 3x09. If you haven't seen the episode yet, you might not understand all my flailing.  
**Disclaimer: **I am in no way associated with 911, Fox, or anything else related to that particular universe.

* * *

It had been Eddie who had passed on Christopher's demand, but Buck had been happy to acquiesce because he missed the little man and he missed Eddie and now that he had some idea of why Eddie had been so bruised and his eyes so distant, he wanted to hang out. He wanted to try to find his best friend underneath all the layers of pain and hurt and anger, and he wanted to stop hating himself for not having been there to see any of it or do anything about it or press Eddie more determinedly about what the hell was going on.

After the debacle with Maddie and Tara, he'd almost had to send a text to Eddie calling it off but he managed to shift things around after his afternoon got screwed up and simply ran late to returning to his own apartment to fling himself around and quickly clean or tidy whatever he could so Eddie didn't start rumbling about his poor living standards and how he'd never cope in the military.

It was all worth ensuring the dinner date still occurred though because the joy that Christopher's delighted giggle of "Bucky!" gave him after he opened the door and swept Chris into a hug proved how much his soul had missed the kid's life and love and warmth. He felt Eddie's eyes on him, that softness in his expression and something he almost dared to say was _fond_ in the upturn of his lips which he rarely saw directed at anyone else. It made him smile past Christopher's shoulder as he nodded a greeting at Eddie, forever grateful he hadn't completely destroyed his relationship with the Diaz duo after all his many screw-ups.

"We brought the pizza," Eddie said, holding the boxes aloft and Buck pressed a noisy kiss to Christopher's hair as he lowered his favourite kid to the floor.

"I've got the drinks," he said with a wink towards Eddie and a jerk of his head towards the kitchen.

Eddie quirked his eyebrows as Christopher headed for the kitchen, already regaling Buck with all the stories he'd missed since they'd last seen each other. And as he pushed the door shut behind him with his heel, he knew it had been too long. It was tougher when they were both back to work so Buck hadn't been available for 'help watch Chris' duties, or when Hen had been struggling, or when Eddie had been trying to process...everything. He'd barely been able to meet Buck's eyes at the firehouse since he'd been backed into the corner of talking to Bobby, deeply overcome with fear or shame at his actions and afraid of his best friend confronting him with anger or disappointment. Eddie felt enough of that already. He didn't need more. All the emotions and negative reactions might just make him shrivel up.

He followed his son to the kitchen, amused at how he babbled away and Buck was completely unperturbed as he pulled plates from cupboards and filled glasses with water.

"And then I told my Art teacher that her hair was really pretty being all the colours of the rainbow and-"

Eddie met Buck's eyes briefly as he set the pizza boxes on the island, and he realised Buck seemed really…settled and _aware_, which he hadn't seemed since before the bombings and the leg rehab. Buck fluidly moved around the kitchen, though Eddie wouldn't stretch to saying it was 'graceful', and was still clearly listening to Christopher and chipping in comments and questions when he wanted more elaboration. It tugged at something inside him to realise how comfortable was talking to Buck. He refused to concede it made him emotional that his best friend so clearly adored his son.

"Hey kiddo, how about you head for the couch and I'll bring your pizza and water to you?"

"Yeah!" Christopher cheered, heading for the couch and commenting on how much he liked Buck's cushions as he clattered towards the small 'living room' area that lurked behind the staircase to Buck's loft bedroom.

"He's a little excited," Eddie said, offering Buck an apologetic smile that Buck just waved away.

"It's totally fine, man. I'm excited too. Getting to hang out with my two best guys? C'mon. What's not to love?"

Buck's smile was bright enough to rival the sun and Eddie ignored the easy way Buck threw his words around because it all seemed like such hyperbolic nonsense. He plated several slices of both pizzas for Chris, wondering if he'd put too much.

Buck thought it felt so amazing to be so light and free around Eddie and Christopher again, to feel like the unspeakable secrets that had been tangled into Eddie's heart and soul were finally somewhat exposed enough that they could talk like actual friends. He wasn't an idiot. He knew there were still fractures between them, cracks that simple apologies and quick hugs couldn't resolve, but as he watched Eddie lower the plate to Christopher's lap and the way Chris bounced with excitement at something as simple as eating _pizza_ in his apartment, Buck knew he'd been a fool to ever risk losing all of this because of the lawsuit. It was only later, or maybe solidified now, that being a firefighter didn't mean as much as Eddie and Christopher meant to him. But that lawsuit had widened the cracks between them which had developed after the tsunami, after Buck had so much guilt for nearly losing Christopher. And Buck all about how their relationship was built on cracks after the earthquake that had made him respect Eddie in the first place, rather than see him as a (very attractive, very ripped, very unobtainable) rival.

"Hey." Eddie approached the island, brows drawn together at the distant expression clouding Buck's eyes, worried that his friend was able to appear okay for Christopher's benefit but actually he wasn't holding it together at all. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm great," Buck said, and for the first time in a while he actually thought he was being honest. The optimistic words felt odd on his tongue.

Eddie stared at him suspiciously, because Buck hadn't been 'great' in a while. Neither of them had, but they'd just kept lying to themselves – and each other, and everyone around them – and now Eddie couldn't help but doubt it. "Well, if you're not done listening, Christopher needs to tell you about the latest movie he saw and fell in love with."

"I'd love nothing more!"

* * *

After Christopher had run out of stories to tell, Eddie had very carefully asked about what had happened with Maddie at the hospital because when Buck had texted to say he was running late, Eddie had thought it meant he was bailing and he couldn't deny the flash of panic he'd felt at trying to reach out to Buck being shut down. But here they were and, in very succinct and child-friendly language, Buck explained what happened so that the story wouldn't (hopefully) give Christopher more nightmares.

Eddie retrieved his and Christopher's plates from the coffee table, following Buck towards the kitchen. "So she shoots him and then takes him back?"

Buck retrieved two bottles from the fridge, glancing back at Eddie and raising his eyebrows. "Ya," he said, because he had a hard time understanding it too.

"And I thought my marriage was complicated," Eddie said as he deposited the pair of plates in the sink, then collected Buck's from the island with a roll of his eyes because Buck had seriously walked past the sink to get to the fridge but left his plate elsewhere? He never would have coped in the navy SEAL. "How's your sister taking it?"

Buck twisted the cap on the beers, sliding one in Eddie's general direction. "It's, uh...been kind of rough on her." It was probably the understatement of the decade, and if Maddie didn't have Chim, Buck would almost certainly have had to cancel his dinner plans with the Diaz boys because he wouldn't have wanted Maddie to be alone tonight. Her experiences and wounds from Doug were still so raw. "You know, I think she thought she could save Tara from Vincent but she's realising, you can't save someone from themselves. Not if they don't want it." He shot a pointed look at Eddie, but the other man was staring at the floor and evidently lost in some series of thoughts.

"Ain't that the truth," he mumbled, drinking from his beer and thinking about how many times Shannon had yelled at him to get help, and then how many times he'd struggled to get through to Shannon that Christopher needed his mom.

Buck looked away when he realised Eddie hadn't realised what he was trying to say. Shame and guilt invaded every cell because...he couldn't dance around this anymore. He had to confront Eddie and get him to talk, to get his best friend back. If it led to an argument, then so be it. "_Especially_ if you aren't around to see that they need saving," he said, his voice rough with remorse and disappointment in himself as he glanced towards Eddie again.

Eddie was still swirling in the memories when Buck's words finally found their target deep within the recesses of his recognition. He looked over at Buck in confusion and need of a more thorough explanation because really? Weren't they passed this? Hadn't Eddie offered his forgiveness weeks ago?

Buck inhaled deeply, the fragments of his prepared apology stitching together awkwardly in his mouth now that he actually had Eddie's attention. "Look, I'm sorry I wasn't there, Eddie. You and Christopher needed me and I-"

Eddie drew his lower lip towards his teeth to stem any sudden tears when he felt his emotions spike. He didn't want to deal with this now. Not tonight. Not when it had been such a casual and chill evening. As much as he'd been hurt by the lawsuit, he wasn't angry with Buck anymore. He knew Buck was filled with remorse. And Eddie… Eddie was the festering wound of a person who needed to apologise to Buck after the way he'd been treating his best friend lately.

Buck recognised the emotional storm that was gathering around Eddie like a cloak when he saw the way Eddie sucked at his bottom lip, pushing away from the counter to approach him but then realising he didn't know exactly _why_ he was doing that because it wasn't as though he could reach out and pull Eddie into a hug. "I had my head so far up my own behind with that stupid lawsuit-"

Eddie's gaze flickered, struggling to maintain Buck's eye contact because there was an intensity, and an earnestness, that Eddie couldn't match. Buck had been so open about his pain, so desperate in his sincere pleas for understanding, that Eddie didn't know what to do except insist repeatedly that it _was_ okay in the hopes that Buck would finally start to hear him. Even though there was definitely a period of time when it hadn't been okay. But that period of time had long since passed.

"We're way past that, Buck," he said, again, wanting it all to get left alone so they could return to whatever evening plans they hadn't made but certainly hadn't included more apologies, but Buck wasn't to be so easily dissuaded.

"I'm _not_," Buck replied, refusing to be dismissed because he needed Eddie to hear his apology and he wasn't sure any of the times he'd tried to talk to Eddie he'd truly been heard. Not when Eddie still hadn't come to him when he was falling apart. Not when Eddie had been hiding so much away. And Buck needed Eddie to realise that he could give up the fighting thing because Buck had made amends and their best friendship back. He needed Eddie to never feel alone when the world went to hell again. He needed Eddie to know he cared about Eddie _and _Christopher, and he knew he'd threatened all of that.

And Eddie was surprised at Buck's vehemence, because Buck was a lot of things but he was rarely so forceful in his never-ending Apology Tour. Eddie leaned back against the counter by the sink, appraising Buck's expression. He truly had forgiven Buck weeks ago but evidently Buck was still riddled with guilt and blaming himself, which hardly made Eddie feel anything resembling a positive emotion.

"I should've been there," Buck said with an assured nod, before his eyes dropped with all the guilt and shame that he hadn't been there.

Some nights, when he was too afraid to close his eyes and have nightmares about the tsunami or the bombings or choking on blood, his thoughts drifted to losing Eddie because of some cage fighting thing, where some guy had kicked _Eddie_ in the face so badly that it damaged his brain, and all because Eddie didn't think he could talk to anyone. It had kept him awake until the very early hours most nights this past week, and on at least one occasion, he'd had a nightmare about finding Eddie in a pool of blood rather than himself.

Buck pressed his lips together ruefully. "Maybe I could've...talked some sense into you."

Eddie huffed a laugh. "_You_ talk sense into _me_," he drawled, tilting his head and raising his eyebrows in amused consideration. Everyone at the house knew Buck was the baby in terms of his age and his general maturity. Eddie was calm and cool and collected under pressure. Buck would race into a burning building that was collapsing and wonder why he didn't have back-up. "That'd be interesting," Eddie pondered, sipping his beer.

"Could've told you not to buy that truck," Buck teased, grasping at the injection of levity with half a grin as he leaned against the counter. He needed to rid some of the darkness from the edges of Eddie's eyes if he had any hope or certainty that Eddie was truly hearing him.

"Yeah? You'd have talked me into buying something more expensive," Eddie retorted with an expectant stare, daring Buck to contradict him.

"Yeah, fair point," Buck conceded, wrinkling his nose but smiling when he met Eddie's eyes because he _missed_ this. He missed their easy banter and the way Eddie would poke fun at him, but it never felt like he was being insulted. It hadn't really felt natural between them in weeks, despite Eddie's supposed forgiveness. Maybe that was because Eddie still had so many walls up because of the fighting thing.

"Look," Eddie began with a slight head shake because he really needed to get this topic over and done with and closed and to never discuss it again and to then move on, move away from the kitchen, and leave everything that weighed them down all the time to be left behind. "Things got a little out of hand for both of us. Don't beat yourself up about it."

Buck's narrowed eyes were on him almost immediately, smile disappearing. "Why? Cos, uh...you'd rather do it?" he asked as he straightened his back and leaned against the island.

Eddie pursed his lips and frowned slightly. Buck's sense of humour was always hard to determine, switching from self-deprecating to pointed jabs at places that still stung. "Excuse me?" he said, his voice coming out smaller than he'd intended.

"C'mon, Eddie. If you're not gonna be honest with Frank, at least be honest with me." Buck saw the way Eddie's face flickered, honing in so he could prod at Eddie's feelings and get him to open up because _goddammit_, Eddie needed to talk to _someone_.

Eddie knew the simplest way to deflect Buck's investigations and intrusions was to turn the questions around, to shift the heat somewhere else. "Who said I wasn't being honest with Frank?"

"You said you two weren't clicking," Buck said slowly, unwavering in his efforts to show Eddie he paid attention to everything, that even though that conversation had gotten derailed when he'd realised he didn't remember the name of the therapist he'd slept with, he was still interested in Eddie seeking help and actually interested in whether he was getting anything out of it.

Eddie hadn't expected Buck to have been so attentive and he hated the suffocating feeling of being trapped into talking about how he felt again. He'd hated it with Bobby, he'd hated it when Frank had started with the questions, and he wasn't a fan of it now with Buck when he just wanted to hang out. "Maybe I'm just not a therapy kind of guy," he muttered, avoiding Buck's eyes as he swallowed a mouthful because there were probably many things he could have gone to therapy for over the years but he'd always just pushed through it and carried on because that was the expectation when you were in a warzone, regardless of how many advancements had been made in the fields of mental health. He could well remember how dismissive he'd been when Buck hadn't been coping after the embolism and Eddie had just dumped Christopher's joy on him, like somehow that was meant to provide a salve to Buck's pain. Maybe if Eddie had listened to Buck back then...

"Right, right. You prefer to _work it out in the ring_," Buck mocked, throwing some weak feints with a barely suppressed grin. But the way his voice lowered and got rougher... Jesus. That stuck with Eddie more and he wouldn't mind hearing it again.

"There was no ring," he corrected, still grasping at any opportunity to divert the attention far away from him and his feelings and refusing to be distracted by Buck's evident amusement at his response. "There was a fence," he admitted finally with a wave of his hand.

Buck barely concealed a bubble of laughter. "C'mon. You don't think, while you were going through your phase, just maybe you were throwing your punches at the wrong guy?"

Eddie tilted his head backwards, glancing briefly at the ceiling to plead with God because Buck was seriously nuts sometimes. He couldn't help the half-smile that pulled at his lips though. "Seriously? You're gonna make it about you? Again?" Eddie couldn't understand how he'd been the one in the matches and yet Buck was the one who kept beating himself up for mistakes that happened months ago.

"I'm just saying you were pretty pissed," Buck pointed out as he watched Eddie look away, his face draped with shadows that barely concealed the array of feelings that had to be simmering beneath the surface. "You know, I thought for sure that day in the grocery store you were gonna take a swing at me."

"Not that you didn't deserve it," Eddie admitted, because he had certainly thought about climbing the stairs to Buck's apartment and hitting him, or shaking him, or yelling at him on more than one occasion after they'd been hit with the lawsuit. The depositions had been ugly but being cut off from Buck had been worse. He'd thought he hit his lowest point when he got arrested and he knew he couldn't call Buck, but in hindsight was just the beginning of everything truly unravelling into shredded ribbons of sanity and sense. Hindsight was a bitch that way. "But I wouldn't do that," he said, shaking his head. "You're on blood thinners." Like somehow that was the only reason he had for not pummelling Buck or shoving him against a wall so that his frustration was finally directed at the person who caused so much of it on a daily basis.

"Oh, I could still take you," Buck challenged, his tone lightening as he raised his own beer and started brainstorming ways he could rid of the storm clouds that hovered around Eddie's head like Eeyore.

Eddie knew he was brutal in the ring. He won the money. He bought a truck. He nearly killed a guy. He probably still has some cuts and scrapes and scars and yellowed bruises to prove it, but he was happy to play along with Buck's jesting. "You think so?" he said, swallowing any of his nerves to throw his own challenge at Buck.

"I know," Buck assured, pushing off from the counter and holding his belt buckle to straighten his spine and raise himself to that extra two inches he had over Eddie. Puffing out his chest didn't hurt. Making himself seem bigger and stronger than Eddie wasn't a bad thing. Eddie might've had muscles but Buck had bulk. He wasn't going to get taken easily. "You wanna go for the title?" he said, sauntering closer and wondering when, exactly, he'd flipped the switch and this all felt like some sort of game of foreplay. He wondered if Eddie picked up on any of those signals or it was just his imagination, his complicated feelings for Eddie brimming too close to the surface of his words.

Eddie failed to hide his grin and wondered if his thoughts were plastered on his face like he feared. He conceded a slight nod and a head tilt to seem like he was seriously thinking about Buck's suggestion, covering up the smile that threatened to erupt across his face with another mouthful of beer.

* * *

"No, no, no, no, no," Christopher chanted, successfully distracting Buck's button-mashing fingers while Eddie pressed his thumbs across the buttons in a steady build-up of moves which finally defeated Buck.

Eddie cheered, high-fiving Christopher for his excellent efforts at being a conspirator in the Great Defeat of Evan Buckley. "Yeah, this is my kinda therapy!"

Christopher giggled, cuddling into his side. Buck slapped his hand against his leg in frustration. but secretly he was delighted. Christopher was always full of comforting warmth and light but Eddie… Seeing the tension in his face and body loosen, finding their old rhythm again… He really hadn't realised how much he'd missed all of this until he was rediscovering it again.

Eddie, ever the competitor, gestured towards Buck's discarded controller. "One more round. Pick 'em up!"

Buck clapped his hands together, leaning forward to gather his controller while Christopher adjusted himself under Eddie's arm to rest against his father's chest. It was a clear sign Christopher was getting tired, and Eddie would probably regret the extra round in the morning when he tried to get his son out of bed, but…he hadn't felt this good in ages and he just wanted to hold onto it for a little longer.

"What happens if I win?" Buck said suddenly, glancing over at them before returning his attention to the screen.

"If _you_ win?" Eddie said, arching his eyebrows again and the doubt clearly bleeding into his tone. Please. He'd just demolished Buck _and_ had an assistant. There was no chance of losing.

"I'll mount an epic comeback, you wait."

"You reckon he can do that, Chris?" Eddie asked, placing the controller in Christopher's hands so he son could make the changes to the selected character on screen. The hair colour was changed, some of the fighting statistics adjusted, and a different weapon chosen. None of it really mattered to Eddie. The game operated on the same basic principle of button combinations.

"Nah, I know this game better than both of you," Christopher quipped, unfazed by the playful bickering occurring above his head.

"Oh _really_?" Buck said, thumbs jamming against buttons to make changes to his character in line with whatever Christopher was doing. "What is this, the Diaz Double-Down? I'll never stand a chance."

"So you're admitting you'll lose?"

"Never."

Eddie fixed Buck with a look. "But that what will I get if _I_ win?"

Buck met his gaze through slightly narrowed eyes. "Let's just determine who wins first, okay? There are no foregone conclusions in this, I'll have you know. I went easy on you that time. I'm not gonna hold back."

"Uh huh."

Despite all Buck's attempts at trash talking, Christopher helped again by raising his feet and wriggling them into Buck's lap, dislodging his hands on the controller during crucial button combinations that reduced their effectiveness and allowed Eddie to counterpunch. Despite Buck's very vocal complaints about cheating, Eddie won. He absolutely owed Christopher ice cream for the helping hand – or feet, as it were.

"So, now I get something, right?" he mused, brows furrowing as he tried to determine what he truly wanted from Buck.

"I never agreed to this deal," Buck pouted, his sore loser disposition entirely at odds with their rival competitive streaks. Eddie would have to find something that worked for both of them.

"You said the winner had to be decided first and now it is," Christopher pointed out and Buck looked at Christopher like he had been so deeply betrayed and didn't know what to do. "Pay up, Bucky!"

Eddie laughed, roughing fingers through his son's curly hair. "You heard the kid. Cough up, Buckaroo."

"Two against one! This isn't fair!" Buck moaned, sinking into the couch cushions with his arms folded across his chest and looking every bit the petulant child that Eddie imagined he'd have with Christopher when they got home and his son realised how over-tired he was.

"Aww, Buck can't handle that I won the title, Christopher," Eddie teased, lightly shoving at Buck's shoulder over Christopher's head.

"I'll get it back. You wait."

Eddie hummed in disbelieving amusement, but he knew it was getting late and he really needed to remember to be a parent again rather than a friend. He had a kid to get into bed, after all. "We should probably be making tracks, _mi hijo_. You ready to get this show on the road?"

"I needa use the bathroom first," Christopher said, wiggling free of Eddie's arm and, with a gentle hand from Buck against his back to steady his body against the squashy cushions, he got to his feet and his crutches clicked across the floor as he retreated.

"So, what _do_ I win?" Eddie insisted, shifting into the space Christopher had been occupying and fixing Buck with an expectant stare. They'd had a deal. Sort of. Now, as Christopher said, it was time to pay up.

Buck put on his best 'thinking' face, which just about made Eddie roll his eyes at the ludicrousness of their entire interaction. "I guess you can come over again and I'll pay for the pizzas that time."

"But that's a future thing," Eddie said, his brain calculating just how far he could go, his hope that he wasn't about to monumentally and royally and completely screw up the fragile mending of their friendship front and centre in every aspect of his thinking.

"So?"

"I want something _now_."

"You do?"

Eddie stared at Buck, hesitating, and then very deliberately he lowered his gaze to Buck's flushed lips from where he'd been biting them and sticking his tongue out while concentrating on the game. He'd been thinking about kissing Buck for…way too long, but the last few days had been especially ridiculous. Ever since Buck had admitted to sleeping with his therapist because of a 'phase', Eddie had been haunted with questions about what _was_ the phase? He had so many questions and didn't feel like he could ask any of them because Buck tended to be intensely personal about some topics of conversation.

The moment Eddie's dark eyes drifted from his and then moved downwards, Buck could swear he felt his lungs stop working and certain muscles freeze his posture into something rigid. Eddie wasn't…was he? Eddie didn't…did he?

But Eddie was still looking at him with that deliberate and undisguised desire that Buck realised he'd probably seen before and not understood what it meant. He leaned in slowly, eyes never leaving Eddie's and trying to determine if this was some sort of game of chicken, or truth or dare.

But Eddie met him somewhere in the middle, his fingers curling into the soft cotton of Buck's sweatshirt and Buck reached out his hand to cradle Eddie's cheek so he could angle his head and hold him close.

The kiss was slow, and gentle, and though Buck perhaps did some of the guiding, Eddie was able to let himself remember how to breathe and how to be okay with kissing someone else, remember he wasn't cheating if his ex-wife is _dead_, remembering that it was okay to take a moment just to let himself feel. The kiss wasn't like he'd imagined their first kiss – if not for Christopher, Eddie was fairly sure he would have pinned Buck to the counter and kissed him then and there with all his pent-up fury and frustration.

The light pressure of Buck's lips, not demanding more than Eddie was capable or confident in supplying , did give him the chance to pull away when he wanted to and collect his thoughts. He felt like some of the messy and jagged pieces of his heart and soul smoothed a little, knitting together loosely for the first time in months.

"Maybe losing isn't such a bad thing," Buck mumbled against his mouth and Eddie huffed another laugh, feeling the way Buck's heart was racing beneath the fabric of his hoodie and guessing his pulse was racing just as badly. "Maybe I'll lose more often."

"Guess I'll have to start preparing my list to up my demands then," Eddie said lightly, but Buck's widening eyes made it clear he could imagine some of what Eddie could put on the list. He tried to fight his grin, but it was a losing battle until he heard the toilet flush and the latch unlock. He pressed another quick kiss to Buck's lips before he stood and tried to act entirely normal.

"Ready to go, champ?"

"Yup! Bucky! I want a hug!"

Buck still looked rather dazed and distracted but he stood and moved to hug Christopher anyway, looking a bit like he was on autopilot because he failed to make much eye contact with Christopher while spinning him. Yet the cheerful laughs that slipped past Christopher's lips made Eddie's heart feel fuller than it had in…years, perhaps

And it was a feeling he had to savour at all costs.

"Hey, buddy? Can you go hit the elevator button for me?" he said as Buck kissed Christopher's forehead and lowered his feet to the ground, and Eddie wondered how he'd been so idiotic or blind to not realise how enmeshed Buck had become in his life, and Christopher's.

"Aye, aye!" Christopher said, disappearing out of the open door.

Buck folded his arms over his chest, something like a smirk on his lips as he looked at Eddie. "So now that you've gotten your kid out-"

"I- I needed to just check you were okay. That we were…cool." Well. That sounded lamer than he'd intended. He'd smack his head once he was in the security of his car.

Buck's lips twitched in amusement. "Why wouldn't we be 'cool'?"

Eddie swallowed, taking the only pathway he ever took if he could: deflection. "You're often a sore loser. I beat you pretty badly."

Buck tugged his sleeves up, exposing the tattoos that Eddie wondered if he'd be able to trace sometime. "No bruises. Didn't get beaten that badly."

"Can you _ever_ be serious?"

Buck chuckled. "You're the one accusing me of being a sore loser when it feels like I won."

Eddie opened his mouth and then closed it when he realised he didn't have a coherent response to such a quip.

"Daddy! Lift's here!"

"Coming!" he called, staring at Buck and wondering he'd ever figure the guy out or he'd always remain some mysterious puzzle that Eddie wanted to solve. Acutely conscious of Christopher not that far away – probably impatient and definitely tired – he moved towards Buck standing near the door and kissed him, firm and determined and still not even close to understanding all the feelings that kissing Evan Buckley made him feel. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"Will you come over tomorrow?" Buck murmured against his mouth, gazing at him with something that was utterly dangerous for Eddie's concentration when he needed to focus on the drive home.

He fought the grin that Buck's teasing and flirting always seemed to bring out, and he realised just how much the absence of Buck had felt like a hole in his chest. "You reckon you can take it?"

Now it was Buck's turn to have wide, stunned eyes and Eddie clearly took advantage with another swift kiss and then he was gone, apologising to Christopher who was grumping about holding the door open and Buck…was still standing next to his door long after the Diaz boys had gone, wondering exactly _what_ he was meant to take tomorrow and whether Eddie had even thought through all the layers of innuendo that of course Buck's mind registered before anything else.

He covered his face with his hands to somewhat stifle the groan of frustration. It was going to be a long and restless night.

* * *

_**~FIN~**_

* * *

Title taken from The Script's "If You Don't Love Yourself".


End file.
